I have this compulsion to spread the joy of books the simple pleasure that
we read to know we are not along and is it not true that books smell good.
I have always been an avid reader from those very early days adventuring in the summer (it was always summer time in Enid Blyton world 😏) with the
Famous Five to those hair raising adventures with William and his band of marauding outlaws; Ginger, Henry, and Douglas and the unforgettable Violet Elizabeth Bott, lisping spoiled daughter of the local nouveau riche millionaire " I'll thkweem and thkweem until I'm thick" Teenager angst may have been responsible for my healthy interest in horror squirmed by the bloody delights and mutant rats infesting the gore dripping pages of James Herbert. Equally I marvelled at the descriptive prose and spellbinding storytelling of Stephen King, many of his thoughts and morals beautifully transferred to the big screen...who can ever forget The Overlook Hotel and the madness of winter caretaker Jack Torrance with his "here's Johnny" refrain 😜 and the blood ran very cold.
These authors fuelled my enthusiasm for the written word and that magical land where my mind could travel...."A novel is about the opening of consciousness in both the characters who inhabit the fictional narrative as well as that of the reader envisioning the novel in their head as they explore the terrain the author has laid out".... A maturing mind encouraged me to fearlessly savour the delights to be found in literary fiction and as an Irishman I eagerly fell under the spell and erudite skills of John Boyne ( The heart's Invisible Furies ) and the lesser known but equally brilliant David Park ( Swallowing the Sun ) In a world where ever-increasing technology confronts us in a 24 hour cycle, and social media surrounds and suffocates a disillusioned audience, it is more important than ever, for the sake of our mental wellbeing, to welcome and connect again with the wonderful world of books, the pleasure of words and the breadth of our imagination.
